Furry Little Problem
by TheDoctorsCompanion13
Summary: Crowley has encountered a hitch in his usual schedule and it's one that he needs to take care of immediately. Ficlet.


Crowley paced the red carpeted floor of his own home, anger and irritation radiating off of him in waves. A fire crackled in the hearth and a massive hell hound was lying upon a plush cushion in the corner of the darkened room. If it were visible, one would notice how the hound was moving its head back and forth, curiously following its masters movements. Crowley kept peering over at his desk as he walked, extreme hatred burning in his eyes.

On top of the antique wooden desk sat a small, white ball of fluff. To the unconcerned eye it appeared to be just that, a ball of fluff, but on closer inspection it was actually breathing. Its tiny chest moved rhythmically with each breath. It didn't move, staying perfectly still, as if waiting for something. A few minutes of silent pacing and Crowley finally stopped in his tracks, turning to the living fluff ball with the right words on the tip of his tongue.

"You furry little bastard," he started, his voice wavering with rage. "I don't care how bloody cute you look to everyone else, I can see through you."

The fluff ball perked up, its floppy ears standing upright, making it obvious that it was, in fact, a bunny.

"I could rip that white fur from your flesh and expose you for what you really are, you thieving rabbit."

It cocked its head to the side, appearing adorable and innocent, as if it didn't know what it had done wrong but it knew. It knew very well.

"You didn't think I saw you, eh? WELL I DID! I went to Jason McMillan's house that very same day for the very same thing. I had a debt that needed collecting. Imagine my surprise when my hell hound charges into this man's home and finds him already dead. Oh, and not just dead. No, no, no, no. There was a key piece missing. HIS SOUL!"

Each time Crowley shouted the hell hound in the corner whimpered in fear. The bunny, however, remained indifferent to the demon before it. That only caused Crowley's anger to worsen like kerosene on a flame. He was about to reach out and strangle the life out of the small creature but he controlled himself.

"That was MY soul. I made the deal. ME! IT WAS MINE TO CLAIM!" his face was turning a deep shade of red as his shouting continued. "And yet, I travel all the way there to come away empty-handed with you at the scene of the crime. You, all fluffy and angelic, gnawing away at a raw carrot. I know it was you."

The rabbit never flinched and never showed any sign of guilt. It only sat and stared with its empty, soulless eyes and twitchy, pink nose. It was a being of pure evil. It stayed there, taunting and mocking him, sending him into a spiraling rage. With a hell freezing glare, he stomped over to a nearby drawer and pulled out a weapon coveted by many. It was the colt, fully stocked with shiny, new bullets he made himself. Crowley didn't hesitate before pointing it at the demonic rabbit with a greed for souls that rivaled his own.

"Last words, rabbit. Fess up and I might let you live."

The little, white bunny didn't try to avoid it. It only gazed curiously at the gun in his hand, as any other rabbit might have done. Crowley waited for a minute or two, as if the animal would actually speak, and then he fired. The blast echoed through the room as the kick from the firing caused the gun to move up in his hand. The bullet traveled in what seemed like slow motion. He watched, anticipation causing every nerve to vibrate, until the metal caught the rabbit between the eyes.

The bunny was splattered all over the wall behind it in a mural of red. Part of its body still remained on the desk and Crowley wouldn't have that. He whistled, catching the hell hound's attention. It lifted its head, staring at its master expectantly.

"Dinner, Bubbles," he said, pointing at the rabbits remains.

Bubbles rushed to its feet and ran to the desk, snatching up the bunny in one bite. Crowley smiled to himself, rid of the soul stealing menace. He knew it was the rabbit that grabbed the soul before he could. He just knew, even if the creature hadn't admitted it. He hummed a rather cheerful tune as he walked into the next room to work on other business, leaving the fire in the fireplace to fizzle out on its own. Bubbles had curled back up on its cushion for a long sleep after having devoured the dead bunny. Crowley shut the door to his office, leaving the room unguarded as a soft thumping permeated the silence. The origin of the sound was a small, white rabbit as it hopped its way through the open front door.


End file.
